Thứ Sáu, 2 tháng 6, 2017

Waching daily Jun 3 2017

Visiting some random website but since I'm offline the dinosaur says hello.

Opening the console in developer tools (aka "inspect element") using f12.

Typing "Runner.instance_.currentSpeed=100000;" making the current speed of the game very fast.

As you can see it's very fast

Slowing the dinosaur down so I can die.

For more infomation >> Chrome dinosaur game make-faster - Duration: 0:47.

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Wow - Duration: 2:14.

So this is what you are gonna get from this channel

For more infomation >> Wow - Duration: 2:14.

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HOT TEARS- Latest 2017 Nigerian Nollywood Full Movie - Duration: 35:23.

For more infomation >> HOT TEARS- Latest 2017 Nigerian Nollywood Full Movie - Duration: 35:23.

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Learn COLOR MOTORBIKE Extreme Jumping with Batman - Superhero Cartoon 3D for Kids - Duration: 2:03.

Daddy finger, daddy finger, where are you?

Here I am, here I am. How do you do?

Mommy finger, Mommy finger, where are you?

Here I am, here I am. How do you do?

Brother finger, Brother finger, where are you?

Here I am, here I am. How do you do?

Sister finger, Sister finger, where are you?

Here I am, here I am. How do you do?

Baby finger, Baby finger, where are you?

Here I am, here I am. How do you do?

For more infomation >> Learn COLOR MOTORBIKE Extreme Jumping with Batman - Superhero Cartoon 3D for Kids - Duration: 2:03.

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Kim Heang - What's language should learn for nowadays market |acc Success Reveal - Duration: 3:45.

Success Reveal

Kim Heang - What's language should learn for nowadays market

For more infomation >> Kim Heang - What's language should learn for nowadays market |acc Success Reveal - Duration: 3:45.

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The Truth About Being A Writer Hint You Don't Have To Be Unhappy - Duration: 6:22.

The Truth About Being A Writer (Hint:

You Donít Have To Be Unhappy)

Ten minutes before my agent called to

tell me sheíd sold my first novel,

I was standing in our community garden

watching a hawk murder a dove.

It was clear that this was an omen of

some kind, although I didnít know what

kind of omen it was.

That must have been the moment when my

agent received the offer for my novel,

so it was the moment when I ceased to

be an aspiring writer and became a real

writer.

I had looked forward to that

transformation my whole life.

I didnít know at the time if I was the

hawk or the dove, or what that gruesome

spectacle could mean,

and I still donít know,

because I donít know what it means to

be a writer.

In one sense, being a writer is very

much like being an aspiring writer.

I write each morning, as I did before,

and at other times I do other things,

as I also did before.

There was no transformation.

The main difference is that there are

books out there with my name on them.

Very good.

None of them are visible to me from

where Iím sitting right now,

at my desk in the attic,

and itís as if they donít exist.

And yet I devoted so much time,

in the old days, to thinking about what

it would be like to be a writer.

How different everything would be.

I imagined that I would drink all the

time and break stuff and cause trouble.

It would be a romantic and destructive

life.

But I was doing that anywayódrinking

and breaking stuff and causing

troubleóand there was nothing romantic

about it.

Maybe my real hope was that being a

writer would make it okay to behave

this way.

Being a writer would excuse my behavior.

And if I knew in my heart that one day

I would be a writer,

then my behavior was also excusable in

the present, even though the

transformation hadnít happened yet.

I donít drink anymore, or break stuff,

and I try not to cause trouble.

But if Iím not a deadbeat after all,

being a writer does mean doing a kind

of work that doesnít look much like

work, and then just sort of wandering

around in the yard,

so I do look like a deadbeat.

And being a writer also means,

for me and for almost all writers,

being poor.

I was prepared for this aspect of the

experience, but it still smarts.

I get paid small amounts at irregular

and widely-spaced intervals.

Itís like being unemployed and

sometimes winning a little bit on a

scratch ticket.

By the same token,

being a writer means struggling to pay

for healthcare.

I have to buy insurance on the

individual market, and before the ACA,

when we were living in Florida,

no one would insure meóI was a risk,

because of the recklessness of my

younger days.

Florida did not expand Medicaid either,

which meant that things were still hard

even after the ACA went into effect.

There are complexities here that I

donít understand.

I do know that our Florida insurance

cost seven times what our Massachusetts

insurance now costs,

and the coverage was worse.

What else, what else?

Being a writer is a little bit like

being insane, since I spend a lot of

time anguishing over problems that

involve people who donít exist doing

imaginary things in places that arenít

real.

I worried that being a writer would

mean never getting close to anyone,

never getting married,

never having kids.

I thought that attachments of that kind

would make it impossible to carve out

the psychological space a writer needs.

Eventually I realized that the problem

was not attachment in the abstract but

the person to whom youíre attached.

Thank God!

You shouldnít marry someone who makes

you feel trapped, whether youíre a

writer or not.

It seems obvious now.

My own partneróherself a writeróopens

the world up for me.

Something else I didnít anticipate:

Being a writer means creating a

productóa mass-produced article of

commerce.

It means trying to get people to buy

that product, although it also means

feeling guilty about trying to get

people to buy that product.

Isnít commerce unseemly?

Isnít art all about a striving after

something bigger and more meaningful?

Being a writer means having complex

feelings about other,

more successful contemporary writers.

But over and above all of that,

thereís this: I worried,

when I was an aspiring writer,

that being a real writer would mean

never being happy.

That isnít because writing had ever

made me unhappy but because I thought

it was supposed to make me unhappy.

Why?

Because Iíd heard older writers talk

endlessly about how hard writing was,

and how miserable it made them.

I have not had this experience.

Being a writer is easy.

Every day, I do the thing that I have

always wanted to doóthe thing I believe

I was put on earth to do.

And I do it in gym-shorts,

in the comfort of my own home.

Sometimes I eat a piece of toast with

jam on it.

My family crashes around downstairs.

As an MFA-friend joked at some public

event: ìBeing a writer is hard?

Being a fucking coal-miner is hard.î

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